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" Within their buds let roses sleep,
ON MAN'S MORTALITY. And virgin lilies on their stem,
“ Like as the damask rose you see, Fill sighs from lovers glide, and creep Or like the blossom on the tree, Into their leaves to open them.
Or like the dainty flower of May, “ l'th' centre of my ground, compose
Or like the morning to the day, Of bays and yew my summer room,
Or like the sun, or like the shade,
Or like the gourd which Jonas had Which may, so oft as I repose,
Even such is man, whose thread is spun, Present my arbour, and my tomb.
Drawn out, and cut, and so is done.
The rose withers, the blossom blasteth, " No birds shall live within my pale The flower fades, the morning hasteth,
To charm me with their shames of art, The sun sets, the shadow flies, Unless some wandering nightingale The gourd consumes,-and man he dies, Come here to sing and break her heart;
“ Like to the grass that's newly sprung, so Upon whose death i'll try to write Or like a tale that's new begun,
An epitaph in some fuveral stone, Or like the bird that's here to-day, So sad and true, it may invite
Or like the pearled dew of May, Myself to die, and prove mine own.' Or like an hour, or like a span,
Or like the singing of a swanAmong the poems of Francis Beaumont, are to be found some pleasing is here, now there, in life and death.
Even such is man, who lives by breath, and well known lines on the Life
The grass withers, the tale is ended, of Man, which are also attributed to
The bird is flown, the dew's ascended, Henry King, Bishop of Chichester, a
The hour is short, the span not long, poet of some merit, but with a strong
The swan's near death,- man's life is tendency to conceits, such as would
done !" well entitle him to the paternity of one of the ideas in these verses, repre- of Quarles, and of writers who great
The other and more authentic pieces senting the light of man's life as a loan of money called in and paid up would lead us into another field which
ly surpass him in his own department, on a very short notice.
we have all along purposely avoided,
and which deserves to be considered " Like to the falling of a star,
separately, and in a more solemn and Or as the flights of eagles are,
reverent tone than is due to mere mo. Or like the fresh spring's gaudly bue, rality. Or silver drops of morning dew,
Having brought down our review of Or like a wind that chafes the flood, miscellaneous moral poetry to the Or bubbles which on water stood
reign of Charles I., we shall not pur. E'en such is man, whose borrowed light sue the subject further, or enter on a Is straight called in and paid to-night. period when so great a change was The wind blows out, the bubble dies,
brought about, in taste as well as in man. The spring entombed in autumn lies,
ners and opinions, and which belongs The dew's dried up, the star is shot,
in its character more nearly to the The flight is past,--and man forgot.”
modern than to the early age of our These lines seem to have suggested literature. In what we have done we another and more expanded form of are conscious that we must have made the same idea, which has also con- many omissions, and we may have siderable sweetness. The piece we bestowed undue importance on some now refer to is attributed by Mr compositions or topics of inferior inEllis to Simon Wastell, and is stated terest. Yet, altogether, we feel that to be extracted from an edition of we have brought into a condensed his Microbiblion, published in 1629. form a great deal of true English They are commonly, however, as- poetry of a peculiar and valuable class, signed to Quarles, and are printed in closely allied, as we believe, with the some editions of his Argalus and Par- best virtues of the national character, thenia, with the Virgilian vindication and which, in various ways, has help. of his right to them: “ Ilos eyo ver- ed to cultivate a style of native siculos feci.” We should be sorry to thought and expression, capable of think that the pious author of the becoming the vehicle of wisdom and Emblems and Divine Fancies had in virtue among the less learned classes this respect preferred a dishonest to a extent even greater perhaps than claim.
we have vet witnessed.
THE LIFE OF MAN.
THE PICTURE GALLERY.
I have a great respect for old fa. which is but just beginning to exhibit mily servants—a sentiment to which the wintry impress of decided age. I adhere the more strongly from the Next to his master and mistress, he is circumstance of the character being the individual of the greatest importsomewhat a rare one in these days of ance in the establishment. His word incessant change and upstart assump- is law with the rest of his fellow sertion, when the “ March of Mind," not vants, who, while they respect his content with playing all sorts of odd manly, straightforward simplicity of pranks in the squire's drawing-room, character, stand not a little in awe of has revolutionized even his kitchen, him, knowing well that he is not one implanting ambitious ideas there, of their sort; the tie that binds him to fatal to those humble, kindly, and his master being less one of self-inte. contented feelings which made up the rest, than of esteem and gratitude. idiosyncrasy of the veteran family do- With this kindly-natured old fellow, mestic. Throughout the various I indulged in many an agreeable gosgrades of the community, all now is sip, which greatly contributed to enpretension and a struggle for superi. liven the solitude in which I lived. ority; and the High Life below He soon became used to my habits, Slairs, which, in Garrick's time, was and whenever he heard me pacing up considered such a capital extrava- and down the Picture Gallery, or ganza, is no longer a broad farce, but rambling about the lawn behind the a familar matter of fact, of daily, house, would take for granted he nay, of hourly occurrence.
might approach without fear of intruOccasionally, however, one meets sion. What I chiefly admired in him with a servant of the consistent, un- was, his unobtrusive independence of sophisticated old school, who was spirit. His manner was deferential born before society had put itself un- without being servile, and he had the der the doubtful tuition of the School. rare tact to time his garrulity, and master; and such a one is my friend's know exactly when he had said butler, to whom I have already once enough. or twice cursorily alluded. This pri. When tired of chatting with this mitive veteran is a fine specimen of a old man who, in addition to bis other class of domestics, who, if innovation acceptable qualifications, was a living proceeds many years longer at its chronicle of all the “ few and far be. present startling rate, will soon between" memorabilia of the district, and found only in the pages of Shakspeare, told me divers curious anecdotes reSterne, Scott, Clery, and Irving. He specting the family portraits in the has lived in my friend's family for the Picture Gallery, it was my frequentcusbest part of half a century; and talks tom to retire into the library, a narof the different members of it, and row, bow-windowed, oak-pannelled their various marriages and inter room, which ran the whole length of marriages, with as much affectionate the building, where I spent many a earnestness as if they were all his own pleasant hour; for I am exceedingly blood-relations. He dates, in fact, fond of reading (though, alas ! my from a christening, a wedding, or a studies have ever been of a most dedeath, which serve him as guide.posts, sultory, unprofitable kind), and feel by whose aid memory is enabled to the full force of the panegyrics which travel back through a long course Cicero, and Milton, and Wordsworth of years. In his appearance, he re- -the two former in emphatic prose, minds me of Shakspeare's “ Old and the latter in as emphatic verseAdam,” for he has a ruddy, open have pronounced upon books. My countenance, beaming with cheerful- friend's library was abundantly stored ness and good nature ; milk-white with the choicest ancient and modern hairs scattered thinly about his tem- works ; and it was here that I first ples; and a stout, well-knit frame, made acquaintance with Buchanan's VOL, XLV, NO. CCLXXXI,
Latin Poems, whose ode on May and impassioned, are, if rightly interDay struck me as being nearly, if preted, alike fraught with benefit to not quite, equal to Horace's Blan- the head and heart. dusian Fount; and his drama of One evening, after a late tea, while Jeptha as superior to any of Sene- lounging over an odd volume of the ca's tragedies, not excepting even his Elizabethan dramatists, I chanced to Medea. Here, too, I met with light upon some extracts from the Jortin's Elegy on a young lady, to tragedy of Thyestes, written, if I whom he was attached, from which I remember rightly, by Crowne, toam tempted to quote two lines as ex- wards the close of the seventeenth hibiting, in my opinion, a truly Ovi- century; and was so much struck by dian fancy,* and graceful freedom of the rude energy of some of the scenes, versification :
especially that tremendous one where.
in Atreus invites his brother Thyestes “ Te sequar, obscurum per iter dux ibit
to a banquet, and places before his eunti, Fidus Amor, tenebras lampade discutiens."
unconscious guest the mangled limbs
of his son, that-despite the character In this library, too, I picked up a of the incident, which militates against volume of old Latimer's quaint ser. every principle of good taste- I could mons, which contain some of the most not dismiss it from my thoughts, but humorous and entertaining passages remained under the influence of “ the in the language ; and got through enchanter's wand," long after I had heaven knows how many tragedies closed the volume. At last I heard and comedies of the Elizabethan age, the clock strike midnight, and rising which, despite the numerous violations from my chair, I took a few hurried of probability in their characters and turns up and down the library, with incidents, rivet attention by the fresh- a view to restore my mind to its usual ness and vigour of the teeming fancy composure ; but finding that my efthat pervades them. To the hours forts were unavailing, and that the thus spent in still communion with scene with all its ghastly horrors still these intelligent spirits, I shall ever haunted my imagination, I unbarred look back with satisfaction. What an the door at the extremity of the apartillustrious assembly they were! Even ment, which opened upon the lawn, the court of the Imperial Augustus and the night being serene and starry, never boasted such a host of mighty strolled about for nearly an hour; afgeniuses as stood round me on the ter which, feeling rather chilly, and shelves of this library. There were in far too excited a mood for sleep, I royalist and republican - Protestant retired to my accustomed haunt, the and Catholic-poet and critic-histo- Picture Gallery, where by way of rian and novelist-ranged peaceably giving a more cheerful turn to my side by side. The pride, the jealousy, thoughts--I had recourse to my old the party heats and religious differ- amusement of illustration. The paintences, that had kept many of them ing which I selected for this purpose, apart when living, were here at an was a view of Margate from the sea, end. All dwelt in good fellowship to which hung directly opposite the Galgether; and each-after his own pe- lery door. The old butler had already culiar fashion-did his best to en- drawn my attention to it, as being a lighten and amuse. The grave has great favourite with his master ; and but one voice; but a spirit of many well it deserved his good opinion, for tones speaks from the haunted walls it evinced much of the truth and spi. of the library, in accents which, whe- rit of Ruysdael, of whose manner, it ther mirthful and familiar, or solemn struck me as being a most felicitous
In the last number of the Encyclopedia Britannica, Mr Moir, in a masterly article on “Poetry,” speaks with something like contempt of the "extravagant conceits” of Ovid. No writer of the present day has shown himself more qualified to discriminate between the true and the false in fancy than this gentleman, who is himself a poet; it is, therefore, with some hesitation that I venture to differ with him in his estimate of Ovid, whom, so far as his powers of fancy are concerned, I conceive to be the most bighly gifted of the Latin poets.
imitation. On the hint furnished by boats, who told it with exceeding this clever picture, I engrafted the unction, just as it had been related to following tale, which I had heard the him by one of the parties concerned previous summer from the lips of one -a respectable tradesman of Hounsof the captains of the Margate steam- ditch.
THE WEEK OF PLEASURE.
St Paul's was on the stroke of nine, vour, for, by some singular oversight, and the Margate steam-boat was just the plank connecting the vessel with about to start from London bridge the shore had not yet been withdrawn; wharf, which presented—as it usually seeing which, the young man elbowed does on summer and autumn morn- his way desperately through the crowd ings-a bustling and motley spectacle. of idlers that thronged the water's Slouching, broad-shouldered porters, edge, and managed to scramble on with their badges of office tied about board just at the very moment when their necks, kept momently rolling on the boat, having slipped her moorings, towards the vessel, bearing down all moved off into the stream, raising a before them, like huge ships of the swell in her wake that set a grim, line, and followed close by the passen- sulky-looking coal-barge, capering as gers whose luggage they were carry. if she had got the St Vitus's dance. ing; policemen stood about the quay, The deck of a Margate steamer exlooking as sharp as razors and inexo- hibits a scene of infinite bustle and conrable as destiny, while two of their fusion at the commencement of her voyfraternity added considerably to the age, for the passengers are all on the qui picturesque of the scene by collaring vive, some settling the position of their a pickpocket, who had been pursuing luggage, others hurrying down to his vocation under the pretence of breakfast, and others, who have chilselling the morning papers. Here, a dren consigned to their care, keeping splenetic cabman or two were busy in a sharp watch on their every movealtercation with their respective fares; ment, it not being safe to give them and there, a group of dilapidated non- unrestricted liberty in the first impulse descripts stood in every one's way on of their delight and wonderment. The the steps of the landing-place, whistling last comer whom I have just described flash tunes, and making quaint com- – Mr Giles Puddicombe, a respectable ments on the vessel and her crew. At oilman in the Minories-was one of last the church clock struck nine, and the most bustling of the crew ; but the eyes of all the loungers on the after he had twice seen to the safety wharf were directed towards the cap- of his carpet-bag, which he had stowed tain of the steamer, who, having away by itself in one of the nooks near ascended the paddle-box, and taken a the paddle-box, popped his head into few brisk turns along the elevated every cabin, made a hurried tour of railed plank which stretched across the deck, and taken his last fond look the boat, and served him for a quarter- at the gilt top of the monument, he deck, was just about to issue the order quietly dropped into a seat in the cento “let go the stern-rope," when, tre of the vessel, alongside a family suddenly, a smart, fair-faced young circle, consisting of a hale, fresh-coman, of about five-and-twenty or thirty loured, elderly man, his wife, two years of age, dressed in white trowsers, children, and a maid-servant, with the tightly strapped down over boots po- first of whom he speedily got into conlished to a miracle, blue coat, beaming versation. After some preliminary in all the beauty of brass buttons, bran commonplaces about the fineness of the new silk hat, and light fancy waist- day, the stranger said, “ Astonishing coat, from which depended a massive deal of shipping in this pool, sir." bunch of seals, rushed in an awful “ Wonderful!" replied Mr Giles state of perspiration down the steps, Puddicombe, with earnestness. bearing a well filled carpet-bag in his “ Ever down the river before, sir?" hand. An instant longer, and he had u • Never; it is my first voyage.” been too late; but luck was in his fa- « Indeed! Me and Mrs H., and
the young 'uns, regularly go once a “Ay, do, my love," interposed Mrs year when business is ".
Hicks; I'm sure the gentleman will “ You're in trade, then, I pre. like to hear it, you tell it with such sume ?" observed Puddicombe. "uncommon".
The stranger answered in the affir- Her husband was just about to commative; adding, with much self.com. mence his anecdote, when he was inplacency, that all the world knew old terrupted on the very threshold by a Tom Hicks of Hounsditch, for he had sort of choking sound near him; and carried on business there as a grocer turning hastily round, he saw one of “a matter of five-and-twenty year," his children striving desperately to and his father, before him, nearly as swallow a huge lump of seedcake, many.
which had stuck half-way in his throat, • Hounsditch !" exclaimed Giles; and the maid-servant slapping him “ why then, you are a nсighbour of energetically on the back, in order to mine, as one may say.' And invited assist his efforts. to confidence by his companion's frank “ Drat that boy,” said his father, and off-hand manner, he forth with when the cause of danger was reproceeded to mention his own name, moved, “ he's always stuffing and address, calling, and so forth, and also cramming. Do, pray, Mrs H., take how he had come out to enjoy a week the cake away from him ; it's now ten of pleasure at Margate, having heard o'clock, and he's been eating ever since a good deal of the attractions of that select watering-place, and being anxi- The vessel had by this time reached ous to see a little more of the world Blackwall, when Mr Hicks, who had than could be seen behind a counter completely forgotten the old Dreadin the Minories, or in the course of a nought, after looking about him for Sunday trip to Richmond or Green- some minutes, grasped Giles by the wich.
arm, and pointing to a bull-necked, “A week's pleasuring is no bad Dutch-built personage, who was standthing," said Mr Hicks, who had lis- ing alone near the steersman, eyeing, tened attentively to this prolix com- with great apparent interest, a spamunication, “ provided, always, it cious isolated building which stood don't interfere with business."
close to the river's edge, said, “Do • Oh, in course; I take good care of you see that gentleman ?" that," rejoined Giles, with emphatic “ Yes; who is he?" earnestness; “never neglect business The grocer paused an instant, as if for pleasure, is my maxim.”
to give greater effect to his reply ; « And a very excellent maxim it is, and then, putting on an air of grave and one that does you credit, Mr Pud- dignity proportioned to the importance dicombe, sir. The Minories is not of his communication, ejaculated, in a far off Hounsditch ; I hope we shall thrilling under. tone, “ That--that is be acquaintances as well as neigh Alderman Maggs !” bours."
It was indeed that illustrious city “ It won't be my fault if we ain't," magnate, who, with spectacles on exclaimed Giles, gratified by this un- nose, and arms folded across his chest, expected compliment.
was gazing at Lovegrove's hotel, so ir You must call and see us at Mar. celebrated for its white-bait dinners! gate, sir ; you'll find us plain, old. From the pensive and abstracted exfashioned folks, but always glad to- pression of his fine countenance, it was ah, there's the Dreadnought! A noble evident that his thoughts were wanvessel, that,” added the grocer, di- dering back to the past; that he was recting his companion's attention to feasting again, in imagination, on the the old hospital ship, which they were many delicious viands which he had just then passing ; " served under the embowelled beneath that classic roofimmortal Nelson at Trafalgar. I never in a word, cultivating the “ pleasures see her but I feel proud, as George of memory !” Giles, as was natural, the Third said in his first speech from regarded him with respect bordering the throne, that I was born and eddi. on veneration; whereupon his comcated a Briton. By the bye, I'll tell panion, whose hobby it was to know you a good anecdote about the Dread- something of every thing and every nought, which was told me by Captain body, entered into various biographiTough of the Red Rover,"
cal particulars respecting the alder.